


The Circular Path of Serried Stars

by Violette_Pleasures



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Devotion, First Love, First time hand job, Forbidden Love, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Heavy Petting, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Love, M/M, Power Dynamics, Underage Kissing, and I am trash, in case no one read the warnings this is UNDERAGE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 01:38:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11749416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violette_Pleasures/pseuds/Violette_Pleasures
Summary: "The rules for this still weren’t clearly defined, just being written and rewritten as they got to know one another more."What happened the night Bruce and Alfred watched the sunrise together.(based off scenes from s1 ep15)





	The Circular Path of Serried Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again \\(nvn) Sorry its been another long while since you've heard from me and its, once again, not to update any old fics TwT Sorry~ 
> 
> A friend recently got me into watching Gotham and into this pairing and for that, I am eternally grateful <3 This is my first fic for this pairing and I'm really excited and nervous to post it. I hope you guys like it!

_“Mortal as I am, I know that I am born for a day. But when I follow at my pleasure the serried multitude of the stars in their circular course, my feet no longer touch the earth.”_  

-Ptolemy                                                       

 

 

 

Bruce struggled up the steep embankment, the dry leaves crunching and slipping underneath him making his ascent a very one step forward two steps back affair. Finally he reached the top and grabbed hold of a large stone to steady himself. He was not prepared for what was waiting for him.

“Hello there, Master Bruce. Well you certainly took your time. What, did you stop off for a pint and a pie on the way up?”

“How long have you been there?!” Bruce asked incredulously once he was able to stop gawping at his butler, sitting nice and cozy by a fire, sipping a cup of tea.

“I don’t know,” Alfred said with a slight shrug. “About  an hour. Just when you started climbing up that really nasty hill.” He took another sip of his tea, maintaining eye contact with his young charge.

“Well thanks for your help.” His voice sounded rather sulky, even to himself.

“Yeah, I never got you down there, did I?” Alfred raised an eyebrow minutely, the only sign of his annoyance. He looked Bruce over from his seat on a fallen log for a moment, before rising and walking over to him. “Are you alright?” His voice softened as he bent and took the young boy’s backpack before wrapping one arm about Bruce’s midsection. “Come here,” he grunts a little as he hefts his master up, like he’s light as a feather and leads him over to the log.

Bruce can’t help the way that makes his stomach flip flop and his heart beat just a bit harder. He leans into Alfred’s side as he hobbles towards the fireside, hoping the butler won’t take notice of the slight blush he can feel creeping up to his ears. 

“I’m cold, I’m tired and my ankle is sprained.” Bruce can’t seem to keep himself from whining some. He was hurt and spent the better part of an evening alone and scared in the dark woods. The young heir winces, a pained breath forced out of him as he sits. “I just wanna go home.”

“You wanna go home…” Alfred smiles slightly as he sits down beside Bruce. “Or do you wanna wait and watch the sunrise? Like you did with your dad.”

Bruce is momentarily at a loss for words. Once again, Alfred was toeing that line of parental role model that Bruce missed so much and best friend and confidante. It was confusing at times, but Bruce wouldn’t trade what they had for the world. A small smile tugged at his lips. “Well Alfred, you can only stay if you think you can handle it.” 

“If I can handle it? Mate, this place is positively cushy compared to some of the places I’ve slept at.” His tone is back to its usual gruff timbre, but there’s no heat to it, its still light, teasing. Alfred pours another cup of tea and offers it to Bruce. “Cup o’ tea, you cheeky monkey?”

Bruce takes the proffered cup with a shy smile. 

 

}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{

 

They sit in relative silence after a while, watching the fire consume the tender, the wet logs hissing and crackling. Bruce glances over at Alfred who is reclining back a little, face turned upwards to the stars. Call it the ramblings of a young boy in love, but Bruce was certain he could see the stars reflected in Alfred’s steel-grey eyes. He clenched and unclenched his hands around the thermos cup in his lap and bit his lip, before scooting over and resting his head on the other’s shoulder. He was wearing a thick, oat colored sweater, making the older man appear even softer than Bruce already knew him to be. 

“Need something, Master B?” Alfred doesn’t take his gaze away from the heavens above, but reaches out and slowly wraps an arm around the boy’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

It was little things like that that made Bruce love Alfred; no eye contact meant less pressure on him in an area he was still so unsure about. When they had decided to finally allow themselves to be physical with one another, Alfred had completely submitted to him in this. What Bruce wanted, what he needed, Alfred gave him without question and likewise what he didn’t, Alfred never pressured him into reconsidering. It was thrilling, if he really thought about it. In a world where he felt he was in control of so very little, having this grown man, his best friend, bow his head and acquiesce, gave Bruce a taste of true power and completely redefined the meaning of ‘loyalty’. 

The young boy reached up and gently touched his butler’s cheek, drawing his attention away from the stars above to the one sitting right beside him. Bruce let his hand fall to Alfred’s chest, clutching at his sweater. He swallowed thickly, studying the interwoven yarn, before he leaned in and allowed himself to look up into his eyes. 

Alfred brought a leather gloved hand up, giving Bruce’s cheek a gentle caress with the back of two knuckles, making the young heir’s breath catch. He bent forward and pressed his lips to Bruce’s, a light touch to young, supple lips. Bruce whined through his nose, tugging at Alfred’s sweater. The older man smirked inwardly before using a thumb to Bruce’s chin to open his mouth up for him to wetly slide his tongue into, deepening the kiss. 

Bruce obediently opened his mouth, a sinful moan slipping hot over his tongue, for his butler. The longer they kissed, the bolder he grew and he twined long, spindly arms around strong, broad shoulders. Alfred replied by wrapping his hands around Bruce’s small waist. His whole body felt like it was coming alive in a way he’d never felt before; maybe it was the adrenaline still pumping through him, but each peck and caress of Alfred’s big hands up his sides, was filling him jittery energy.  

The older was the first to pull back. Those watchful, fierce, yet kind eyes focused entirely on the young boy in front of him. It was bone chilling to be the subject of Alfred’s intense gaze at times, but at others, like now, when they were both breathing hard, breaths mingling and making little clouds in the chill air, Bruce felt like the most precious thing in the world to him. It was the devotion in that look that had Bruce’s heart hurting, body aching for more.

“A-Alfred…” Bruce shifted as if to stand, Alfred’s hands immediately flying up to support him. He couldn’t help the warm pink of his cheeks as he gestured at the other’s lap asking “May I?”

“Of course, boy.” A fond smile spread across Alfred’s face, creases around his eyes enhanced, as he straightened himself up and opened his arms in invitation. 

Bruce tried to carefully perch himself in Alfred’s lap. “Ah!” _That damned ankle._ His butler reached down behind his knee and helped situate him until they both fell into a comfortable position, Bruce’s too long legs stretched out behind Alfred, resting on the log.

“Here we are, right as rain.” Alfred’s hands rested loosely on Bruce’s hips, again gazing up at him with utter devotion. Bruce was a prince and Alfred’s lap was his throne. But alongside the devotion, there was a spark, a spark that Bruce had come to decipher over their rather short period of physicality. It was _hunger._

Bruce felt it too. He recognized now that he felt that same hunger, that same desire, resonating deep within him. The boy couldn’t stand it any longer and crushed their lips together. This time Bruce was the one to slip his tongue into the older man’s mouth, trying to express this new rush of energy he was feeling. He could tell by the way Alfred’s hands left his hips, momentarily hovering, that he had caught him off-guard. Good. 

In the next moment, Alfred’s strong arms wrapped around Bruce’s smaller body, one hand pressed to his back, the other cradling the back of his head. Deft fingers tangled into black curls, teasing shivers up and down his spine. Bruce rested a hand on Alfred’s cheek as their kiss began winding down, still voracious and consuming, but slowing down to savor the tastes of each other’s mouth. Alfred tasted of the black astringency of tea and the slight smoke of a good scotch, the silver flask Bruce gifted him no doubt somewhere nearby and half full.

Bruce paused for just a moment before he began rocking, just minute rolls of narrow bird-boned hips. It felt good and right in the moment. He was rewarded with a low groan from Alfred that seeped straight into his core. It encouraged him and he began snapping his hips harder and faster into the flesh he could feel hardening beneath him.

“Whoa there, cowboy…” Alfred rasped, his voice sounding like a purr to Bruce’s ear, and grabbed the boy’s hips firmly, stilling him. “You keep that up, and this is going to be over before its even started.”

Bruce tilted his head to one side, looking Alfred over. “Should we stop?” 

“No, lad, just…”Alfred used the firm grip he had on his master’s hips to begin slowly rocking him back and forth, pressing up to meet Bruce’s thrusts. Bruce gasped and moaned loudly at the pace. “…slow things down a bit.”

They sat that way for a while, both getting love-drunk off the rhythm of their bodies pushing and pulling in a dance they were both still learning the steps to. Alfred guided Bruce and Bruce, for now, surrendered and was gladly led. They had both grown hard, Alfred’s hard cock slotting between Bruce’s thighs and rubbing against his smaller arousal. Multiple times Bruce thought he was going to tip over the edge, but every time it was like he couldn’t quite get there, much like the climb he had just made up the hill. He made a small, frustrated whimper as he came close to the edge again, but didn’t climax.

“Alfred, I can’t…” Bruce reached between his legs and gave his small cock a press with the heel of his palm, trying to ease what was quickly becoming discomfort. “I don’t know what to do.” He could feel tears welling up in his eyes over how badly he needed to release combined with the slight embarrassment he felt at being so clueless in these matters. But the rules for this still weren’t clearly defined, just being written and rewritten as they got to know one another more. “I don’t know what’s okay…”

Alfred was silent for a moment. Bruce could see he was warring with himself in the contemplative furrow in his brow. It made his heart race knowing that whatever he was thinking over, it had to be something new, something that obviously was going to make the older man feel slightly guilty for suggesting. Alfred’s guilt was still something Bruce was working on.

“May I touch you, Master Bruce?” Alfred placed a hand over Bruce’s inseam, fingertip landing on the button of his trousers.

Bruce’s pulse quickened, his chest rising and falling with increasing rapidity at the thought of Alfred touching him so intimately. A confusing nervousness crept up in him, but it took him less than a second to whisper the reply of “Yes.”

Alfred unbuttoned and slid Bruce’s pants down slowly, giving the boy the chance to back out at any moment. His gaze was torn between watching Bruce’s face and the soft, milky flesh being revealed by his own hands. He trembled slightly as his fingers slipped into the waistband of the boy’s underwear, Alfred looked up into Bruce’s eyes as he slid them down to his hips, finally releasing Bruce’s small, aching member. He chanced a look down, trying not to stare too long, and gave an appreciative sharp intake of breath between his perfect teeth. “Look at that, Master B…every inch of you is lovely, isn’t it?”

Bruce flushed the softest pink all over as he made himself sit as still as possible under Alfred’s discerning gaze. He had to close his eyes for a moment. Everything was getting so overwhelming, his senses on overload. Underneath all the exciting good he was feeling, he couldn’t get this gnawing feeling in the pit of stomach, the fear of being too immature for Alfred, for maybe not doing the right thing in these intimate moments, to go away.

“Look at me.” His butler’s low voice, broke through the cacophony of thoughts screaming in his head. Bruce slowly blinked his eyes open, still glassy from unshed tears. Alfred locked his gaze with Bruce’s again as he wrapped his hand around the boy’s cock. It completely disappeared in the older man’s hand. Bruce arched into the touch, jerking bodily. Nothing could have prepared him for the way it felt to have Alfred touching him like this, skin on skin. He couldn’t stop the loud moans that came flying from his lips as his small cock was squeezed off and on by the man he held so dearly.

“Is it alright? Too much?” He pressed a kiss right over Bruce’s heart.

“N-no..please–” Bruce wrapped both arms around the other’s neck for balance and rocked up into Alfred’s hand, making himself shudder at the pleasure. 

“Alright, then.” Alfred smiled against Bruce’s chest, breathing in the scent of him, the smells of wood and soap and just _him._ He slid a hand up his young master’s shirt as he kept stroking him, rucking it up to reveal a toned, fair stomach and the bottom peaks of delicately arched ribs. He made sure to catch Bruce’s eye before he gently caressed a hardened nipple. 

Bruce jerked, recoiling slightly at the touch. He breathed a quiet laugh. “Tickles a little…” 

“Maybe I ought to be a little rougher then, hm?” Alfred gave the pink pebbled nipple a biting pinch producing a pained groan from Bruce. 

“Yes, like that.” Bruce panted, eyes dark and intense. 

Alfred continued toying with the boy’s sensitive nipples while gently stroking his length. He ground up as best he could against Bruce’‘s bare bottom, his own cock starting to ache with impending release. He shifted trying to find the best position to get off with his master.

Bruce felt orgasm gushing through his veins at lightening speed as he was petted and loved thusly. He buried his face in the crook of Alfred’s neck, breathing in his comforting scent and trying desperately to hide the tears he felt slipping down his cheeks unbidden. He wanted to be closer to Alfred, wanted to press their bodies so close together, they became one, wanted to lay open his soul for the man holding his heart in rough, war-calloused hands. 

“Can we? May I?” Bruce reached between his legs, brushing long fingers over the bulge in Alfred’s trousers. His voice wavered as he whispered hotly in his butler’s ear “…I want to see you.”

“Fuck…you’re going to be the death of me.” Alfred breathed gruffly, a fond smirk playing at his lips. “Are you sure?” 

He had to ask. Gentle Alfred always had to double check, but Bruce needed him now. With Bruce’s sure, vigorous nodding, Alfred quickly and efficiently pulled his rigid cock out of the zipper hole. Bruce’s mouth watered at the sight of it; thick and veiny and so _hard…so so hard._ He tentatively touched it, wrapping a hand around it, giving it a few small tugs. He inched his hips forward until his small cock nudged at Alfred’s much larger one. 

After a moment, Alfred seemed to catch on to what Bruce was trying to do and  pressed both their cocks together in one hand. He rolled their cockheads together, slicked  by precum, before he started stroking them in earnest. The pace was harsh and fast, no doubt the one Alfred used when he touched himself, Bruce’s helpful mind supplied, along with images of Alfred reclined on his bed, stroking his big cock just for Bruce. It was becoming too much and he felt himself reaching the inevitable precipice of release.

“There, we are, Master B…just like that…” Alfred whispered and groaned softly into the small hairs beginning to curl by Bruce’s ear. “Getting close, Bruce…”

That was it. Just knowing Alfred was feeling as good as he was, was all he needed. He curled tighter into Alfred, pressing his face harder into Alfred’s shoulder, straight teeth biting into beigey wool. He felt the words sliding through teeth he desperately tried to keep clenched and slipping over spit-slick lips into the open autumn air. “I love you” Bruce choked out, the words sticking to his mouth as he climaxes into his butler’s hand and all over his still hard member.

“I love you too, Bruce Wayne.” Alfred says with so much tenderness, Bruce can feel his heart trying to leap out of his chest and into the other man’s hands. Then Alfred comes, much more quietly than Bruce, following in his master’s steps and  rutting into his little softening prick until he too grows soft.

They slowly come down together, Bruce still clinging hard to Alfred, The comedown for Bruce feels more like falling. He feels naked down to his innermost being, a little torn, a little raw around the edges, after such an intense coupling. The tears won’t stop coming no matter how hard he bids them away. 

“There, there, mate…its not all that bad, was it?” Alfred’s voice is sweeter than Bruce has ever heard it before as he cups his face and kisses away the tears.

“I-Its not bad-d…”Bruce smiles even as he hiccups and stutters over his words. “I-I don’t kn-know why…I’m even crying…I fee-feel so h-happy.” A watery little chuckle bubbles up from somewhere warm inside him.

“Me too.” Alfred’s smile is kind as he gives the boy’s cheek another pat before tucking them both away and sitting Bruce beside him. He tosses a blanket across both their laps and tucks Bruce right against his side, pressing him in tight. 

At some point, Bruce finds himself drifting off, the warm fire and blanket and the ever present firmness of Alfred by his side, swaddles him in safety and warmth. His last thoughts before his dreams pull him under are of how he still can’t believe he told Alfred he loved him.

And Alfred had said it back.

 

}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{

 

“…Master B….”

Bruce felt himself being roused after what felt like a few years of being asleep. His brows furrowed a bit, trying to fight consciousness before he remembered why he was here in the first place. He blushed when Alfred turned to look at him, recalling what all had happened just a few hours before. He blinked, turning  sleep heavy eyes to the line of the horizon. He felt Alfred’s fingers intertwine with his under the fleece blanket before he spoke.

“…sunrise.”


End file.
